Rabid
by RimZtheNonForgiveR
Summary: In which Lady screams bloody murder and Dante can't quite tell the difference between a small dog and an overgrown rat.


**A/N:** I know some of you just read the title and summary and are most likely face-palming either from the sheer ridiculousness of what is to come or from the fact that I'm posting another fic when I should be working on my current ones. Haha... Although, in my defense, I truly am working on them (all of them, as a matter of fact) but with all the drama going on about DmC, I've just sorta lost hope for the fandom as a whole. _But_ that's all over now and I got my shit together! I'm sure as hell not buying the game when it comes out, since it doesn't appeal to me at all in any way, shape or form, but all the hate I'm getting for being a 'hater' as they like to call it, I've learned to laugh at. Though I will be sure to watch the cut-scenes. I wanna see if DmC!Vergil/Vorgil/Vergin really turns into that T-Rex thing like the game leak said he would. *crosses fingers*

Well, I have nothing more to say other than that I should be rightfully ashamed of myself. Except I'm _not_, 'cause I have no _shame_, thus this fic, heheh~! Anyways, please do EnJOY!

**Warning:** Because no matter how much my mind may say otherwise, this here is indeed a crackish-fic. Beware of OOC-ness.

**Disclaimer:** I am not Hideki Kamiya, therefore I do not own DMC. I am also not Kevin Eastman or Peter Laird, so TMNT does not belong to me. And since my name is not Michael Jackson, I don't have any claim whatsoever over the song 'Beat It'. However, though it may not compare, I do own Chocolate…but you know what, I don't even want it.

…If you wanna stop reading right now, rest assuredly that I won't blame you. XD

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**.**

**Rabid**

**.**

Dante was just nodding off as he attempted to watch a show on how to properly prepare a healthy bowl of fruit salad-seriously, what was Lady trying to get at by making him watch this?- when said female came running out of the kitchen screaming bloody murder.

"Huh? Wha-? What happened?" he sputtered as he shot up from his seat, fists already up in defense as his tired brain tried to catch up on what was going on.

"Dante!" she screeched, doing something like a hop-skip version of the pee-pee dance as her hands grabbed worried fistfuls of her shirt. "You have a rat!"

Letting his fists drop slowly, he cocked his head to the side and blinked his blue eyes blankly, "A rat?" he inquired.

"Yes!" The huntress nodded hurriedly, sending paranoid glances over her shoulder as if the thing would somehow sneak up on her when she least expected it. It had already done that once while she was making a sandwich. "It's in the ki-! Oh my god, it followed me!"

With another screech-did she even notice she was doing that?- she shot forward, ducking under his outstretched arms when he attempted to comfort her, and ignoring the dirty look he shot her way as she pushed him headfirst into the oncoming threat. "Go kill it!" she ordered.

Muttering darkly under his breath, the half-devil turned around and started forward in order to do her bidding but instead came to a pause after his first step as something brown and fluffy came wobbling into view.

There was a brief moment of tense silence in which Dante stared minutely at the moving mess of brown fluff, the moving mess of brown fluff paused, turned its attention from Lady to redirect its way towards him instead, and Lady-the poor, unfortunate girl- stood tucked into the corner of the couch a safe distance away as she waited in a mix of nervous anticipation for the half-devil to make his move.

And move he eventually did.

Except it wasn't in the way she was expecting (read: hoping), and instead of moving forward to confront the thing like he damn well should have, he turned to slant a glance at her. Snowy-white bangs falling into his eyes as he looked to the rodent that was slowly, but surely approaching him, to her wide-eyed expression three consecutive times before the corner of his mouth stretched upward into a knowing smirk.

"Hah," He chuckled outwardly, eyes crinkling boyishly at their corners as his smirk fledged into a full-blown grin. "I didn't know you were scared of dogs, babe." he quipped with a snort, still grinning impishly up at her.

She openly gaped at him.

"Dante…?" she questioned hesitantly once she had full control over her jaw again. He definitely couldn't be serious, she tried to assure herself. He had to be messing with her, right?

Sure the thing was bigger than most of its species-she had only seen rats this big on TV- and she was almost positive that it was diseased in some way, but there were big differences. Differences like_ the very obvious rat tail, the stubbly legs, and the long snout with whiskers_ that you couldn't- if you were smart, which Dante apparently wasn't at the moment- possibly mistake a canine for having.

And, yes, Dante had a huge track record for teasing her when something, as rare as it was, had a tendency to metaphorically make her jump out of her skin since she made it a point almost daily that she wasn't afraid of anything. But as she took him in, he with the imprudent grin he always wore when he thought he had proved a point or was right in some way when he really _wasn't_, she knew he was dead serious.

The idiot really thought the thing was a dog.

"_That's not a damn dog, _you dumbass!" she once again screeched, arms flailing about. "That's a fucking rat!"

"No, it's not," he argued very stupidly, his mouth falling into a childish pout as he moved to cross his arms stubbornly. "Rats're gray!"

"They can be brown too!"

"No they can't be. Shut up." Waving her off, he approached the slow moving animal, both her curses as he so rudely blew her off and the warnings of danger directed at him going in one ear and out the other as he met it half-way. Sinking down to a crouch, Dante looked into its black, beady eyes as it drew ever closer and felt his heart melt at the sight.

It was injured. That, he could tell from the simple fact that the poor thing was practically dragging itself to get to him. And, on top of that, he could see that it was also a bit malnourished. Though he couldn't be totally sure that it wasn't just small from the type of breed it. For all he knew, it could've been a puppy. He'd always wanted a puppy…

"C'mere, little guy."

Then, quite unceremoniously, he reached over-the fact that the thing tried to take a chunk out of his hand going unnoticed- his large, calloused hands slipping under its two front stubbly legs to support it as he picked it up.

Behind him, Lady let out a something between a garbled sob and a strained laugh.

Although, that also went unnoticed seeing as how Dante was too immersed in looking over his new pet. And what a cute pet it was! What with its fluffy brown fur and wide, black eyes. How anybody could possibly shun such an innocent looking creature, he didn't know. But that was all in the past now, and his new pet-_Chocolate_, he would name it- didn't have to worry about that for the rest of its life.

Chocolate seemed to have sensed his internal declaration because next thing he knew, it was trying to playfully paw at his face. How cute~

"Dante…"

Pulled out of his internal musings by the voice, the devil hunter shifted Chocolate in his grasp before shooting a glare over his shoulder at the younger woman. She had been one of the shunners, he wouldn't soon forget, and if she thought she could use her feminine wiles to try to charm him into getting rid of his newfound friend, she had another thing coming.

Unless, of course, she tried _very_ hard.

"Dante," she tried again, fingers digging so hard into the back cushion on the couch that she was surprised the worn material hadn't yet ripped under the strain, "_Please_, for the love of all that is holy…put the thing down—"

"No."

"Dan—!"

"No! Chocolate's mine!"

Lady looked scandalized. "You _named_ it?!" _And 'Chocolate' of all things!_ She was too horrified to say.

"Yes, I did!" he declared proudly, shooting her an infuriating grin. "So don't try to sweet talk me out of keeping it, babe! Besides, Chocolate came to me, after all, that means we belong together—"

"I honestly don't doubt that."

"-and that means we're gonna stay together. _Forever_." He finally finished, patronizingly stretching the word out because he knew that it would get on her nerves. "Ain't that right, Choco?" he cooed softly, his gaze turning back onto his beloved pet.

It squeaked in response.

"…"

"…"

"Wait a sec…" Face falling into blankness, Dante blinked slowly, dumbfounded as he gave his little 'pup' a thorough onceover. He could be mistaken, but he could have just sworn his little Choco-baby had just freakin' _squeaked _at him.

_Squeak!_

Okay. So that wasn't a mistake on his part, it had actually squeaked at him. Great. That was out of the way, so what was the actual problem with that?

Oh, yes. Dogs didn't squeak, did they? They barked. Because that's just what dogs did. This thing, however, was not barking.

It was squeaking.

_**Squeak!**_

Yes, we heard you the first time, little one. You with your beady eyes and too little ears. And what the hell with the snout? And were those whiskers? Cats had whiskers, right? So what, he was dealing with a cat now? _The hell_, man.

With a grimace, Dante held it out away from his body. Right now, he didn't want it anywhere near his person. Especially with the way it was thrashing about wildly in his grasp, all the while trying to get at his face. He was having doubts now, and instead of the cute pawing he senselessly thought it was trying to do earlier, it looked more like it was attempting to violently tear his face into shreds.

_SQUEAK!_

He winced as his keen ears picked up the sound and threw it back at him ten-fold, and feeling something brush across his left foot, the half-devil felt his muscles tense involuntarily. The warning bells were definitely going off now, because from what he had just felt, that tail was all wrong. There was no fur or hair, it was just skin.

But that had just been a brief touch. He could still be wrong, he told himself. This could still be a puppy-a weird one, with some kind of deformity- but a puppy nonetheless. He was just being paranoid because Lady, the damn witch, had told him otherwise. She had said that what he was holding was a rat. But she was wrong-_she had better be wrong, damnit!_- he was right, and he would prove it. And as he lifted it even higher off the ground so that its tail was now at eye-level, that's exactly what he tried to do.

Needless to say, he regretted it immediately.

The appendage was too long, was the first thing his mind could comprehend. Too long and too thin. And as was what he had been dreading, there was no fur, just pink skin. Did dogs have that? Probably. But he knew for a fact that gerbils had tails like the one he was currently looking at. Mice as well.

Fucking _rats_ had that tail.

Which could only mean…

_Oh, shit._

"…_you ain't no damn puppy! ARGH!_" With no amount of elegance whatsoever, Dante dropped the rat, shooting up to his feet and shaking his hands out in his panic, as if that would somehow rid him of the evidence that he had been holding such vermin for an extended period of time.

Hearing the couch squeak behind him, Dante whipped around so fast he almost caught whiplash-because he had forgotten somebody was in the room with him, not because he was paranoid that there was another mutated rat out to get him- and spotted Lady, whom was currently back in her corner watching the proceedings with an expression border lining on disturbed. He immediately rounded on her.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" He exclaimed, watching as bi-colored orbs went wide at the (absurd) accusation. Pssh. As if she was innocent.

"I did-!"

"_Why didn't you tell me_?!"

"I DID TELL YOU, YOU MORON!"

"'_Moron'_?! Why I-Agh!" Feeling something furry brush his leg through the fabric of his pants, Dante scuttled backward until he felt his bare back hit the wall, watching with horrified eyes as his former pet closed in on him.

It was a sight to behold, really. Dante, Son of Sparda, and the destroyer of both hellish fiends and guardians alike, was cowering away from an abnormally large rat when he should really be hacking the thing into pieces as what was natural for him. If only his brother could see him now. He was going to look back at this moment sometime soon and see just how ridiculous the whole thing was, he just knew it.

But as for right now, he was seriously fearing for his life. Yes, it was true that he'd faced bigger things, _stronger_ and _faster_ things, than what he was currently up against, but now this thing was foaming out the mouth and shit and he didn't know that if it bit him he could come back from that.

As the distance between himself and his would-be infector continued to rapidly shrink, he could honestly admit to himself that he was terrified.

But he'd be damned if he was gonna go out like some punk bitch.

"Fuck this."

Face set into a determined scowl, Dante planted one foot flat on the wall behind him before he kicked off, using the force and the resulting momentum of the kick to send him diving over the rat and later tucking himself into a ninja roll that would have positively blew your mind if you were there to see how absolutely flawless the execution was.

Without looking back, Dante pushed himself to his feet and sprinted to the bathroom at top speed, the feeling that there was something nipping at his heels giving him that extra boost of motivation to push himself to the limit.

Reaching the threshold of safety, the half-devil spun around and slammed the door shut hurriedly, flipping on the light switch and inspecting the small bleached-white room to make sure it hadn't made it in with him, and locking the door when he found that it indeed had not.

Sagging against the door, he let out a sigh of relief, blinking rapidly to get used to the bathroom's bright light and catching sight of his own disconcerted reflection in the mirror.

"Aw, dude, my hair." he complained grumpily after taking in his muddled appearance. Bringing his hands up to straighten out the disarrayed strands of snowy hair, he came to a pause halfway as an inimical shout cut through the air.

"_Dante, get your ass out here!"_

"_Hell no_!" he shouted back, facing the door once more. She must've been crazy if she thought he was going back out there. His _death_ was out there. "You handle this your damn self!"

"_You bastard!"_

He laughed patronizingly in response to that.

And he would have continued doing so if it wasn't for the scratching of nails on wood now sounding from the door.

"Oh, _goddamnit_!" he cursed viciously, backing up into the sink. Well, wasn't this just great. The thing had followed _him_ when it had the easier catch out there with it.

Well, if he wasn't screwed before, he certainly was now. There was no way he would be a match for it.

He was obviously dealing with the real-life version of Master Splinter, except one or possibly all of his ninja turtle sons had ingested a rather bad slice of pizza, had gotten sick, and passed the disease onto him. And now he had to deal with a mutant rat skilled in _ninjutsu_ that was out for _his blood_ specifically for one reason or another. He was going to die and he wouldn't even know why.

_No, but wait_, he paused, icy orbs narrowing in thought. There _was_ that one thing he had done that one time when he was younger.

It had been during the time he was still living at the orphanage. He had gotten bored one sunny afternoon, but since the other children did well to shy away from him because of his natural white hair and winter-cool eyes and didn't want to play with him, he had to find his own source of entertainment. That had been, as was most often than not, in the wrong place. And since he had a tendency to be very…_destructive_ as a child…well…shit happened.

And it had to have been _that_ because he couldn't think of anything else he had done wrong that could warrant the wrath of Splinter-_sensei_.

"Alright, Mr. Rat," he started, breathing out a sigh and running a calloused hand through his hair without a second thought. He was probably going to sound pretty stupid talking to a rat, but if it would get the thing off his back, he didn't have any qualms with sinking that low. "If this is about the cherry bomb I flushed down the toilet when I was eleven, then I'm sorry." he finished.

Breathing out in relief to have gotten that off his chest, he immediately cursed afterward when he realized it was still persistently scratching at the door instead of backing off as he had hoped it would.

"Huh. So, it wasn't that…" he pondered to himself, his hand coming up to now rub at his chin as he thought. His boyish features then settled into a frown. Why did his hand smell funny? Shrugging and brushing the thought away, he decided he would just have to go with Plan B.

"Look, whatever it was you think I did, it wasn't me," Dante hesitated a bit before he could finish the response. She was probably going to kill him- or at least _try_ to kill him for this. She was hella fierce when she was pissed as he had learned the hard way. _Oh well_, he shrugged carelessly, pale lips pulling into a smirk as he rested his weight against the bathroom sink. Man, was he going to enjoy this. "It was Lady."

"_What?!"_

"Sorry, babe." He apologized without a hint of remorse, his smirk growing wider as he no longer heard any scratching coming from the door. The following shriek was like music to his ears.

"_Don't 'sorry, babe' me, asshole! Eww, it's trying to get on the couch!"_ she exclaimed in disgust._ "Ugh! Dante, I'm gonna kill you!"_

"Yeah, _sure_ you are, hot stuff." The half-devil taunted. No doubt she could hear the grin in his voice and it was only infuriating her more. "Just be sure you take out the trash before you do, though. Oh! And watch it, will ya? I'm pretty sure the thing's got Rabies."

"_Bastard!"_ The sound of something metal impacting the door soon after the barked insult dimmed his smirk just a bit.

He was positive that it was his favorite spoon that had just landed in the spot his rat friend had recently vacated. And if he was right like he thought he was, he would now have to get rid of it, which was a crying shame since he had eaten many, _many_ delicious strawberry sundaes with that spoon. It had been a wonderful spoon and they had had some great times together. He would be sure to use an extra special bag when he threw it out.

The sound of small feet thumping up the stairs and a muffled 'Screw you!' finding its way to his ears before a door slammed shut, brought him out of his reverie.

Blinking slowly in confusion, Dante's blue orbs then widened in horror at the realization that his partner had just hightailed it upstairs to safety. They proceeded to widen even further when he heard noises coming from the door again.

Except it wasn't scratching this time. The rat sounded more like it was trying to chew its way through the door now.

"Shit!" he hissed under his breath.

Whipping around, Dante threw the medicine cabinet open, hastily searching through its contents to find something that may aid him in keeping the fiend away and cursing vehemently when he didn't come across anything of use.

Slamming the mirror shut almost hard enough to shatter the glass, he was just about to make his way to check the closet for something bleach-related-or to possibly hide inside of it- when he heard the second-floor entrance creak open rather menacingly over his racing heartbeat.

Dante paused. The rat paused. And other than the soft humming coming from bathroom's lights, the sound of heavy thuds slowly descending the steps could be clearly heard over the near silence. Lady had her boots on now.

_Shit had just gotten real._

"_You know, rat,"_ the demon huntress started, two more thumps following after a beat of one or two seconds in between. _"You've got some nerve coming in here unannounced, trying to eat me, and then infecting the place with whatever disease you have._

"_Not only that, but now I have to burn some things, including this shirt I'm wearing. It's my favorite shirt I'll have you know, but I'm not taking any chances."_ She gives a tiny sigh here, as if the decision itself was like taking a heavy burden upon her shoulders. Dante idly wondered if maybe she had run a hand through her hair, or if a pretty pout puckered her lips to accompany the action. She could be pretty damn dramatic when she wanted to be. _"But, you know what? You don't even have to worry about that," _he hears the familiar sound of a gun being cocked and doesn't even bother to hide his groan._ "I'll __**personally**__ show you out now."_

There comes a startled squeak from the rat as if it itself knows what's about to happen next, and then the bullets of Lady's Uzi are tearing into his floor, the door he's seeking refuge behind-he knows that that was no accident- and he's positive some of them even hit his desk.

But he doesn't give any thought to that now; he can calculate the damage at a later time. At the moment, his priorities lie in listening to both the frightened squeaks and the rapid gunfire slowly but surely begin to move away from him and to the other side of the room.

The whole process of getting rid of the pest takes up about two minutes of his life, and he only knows it's safe (kinda) to leave his sanctuary when he hears Lady kick the front door open violently, scamper back a couple feet, and the panicked squeaking and scuttling of four little feet on his shop's wooden floor is no longer within his hearing range.

Of course, it's only after Lady's _"That's right! Make like Michael Jackson and _Beat It_, ya damn rat!"_ remark that gets him chuckling outright, that he finally unlocks the door, opens it cautiously, and steps out of the bathroom to take in the damage done to his home.

Needless to say, he was surprised when he found that the casualties were less than what he expected it to be. Although besides fixing the floor and replacing the bathroom door, he needed a new chair-since his current one now had _three_ broken legs- and his desk had more than a few bullet holes in it that needed to be patched up a.s.a.p.. Thankfully, even through all the destruction, the portrait of his mother was left unscathed.

Sighing in relief at that, the devil hunter stiffened immediately afterward when he felt the burn of a glare on his person. Almost reluctantly, Dante turned and locked his gaze with his potential executioner.

If he was a lesser man, he would've shrank back, her look was so unforgiving. But, no, he wouldn't because he was Dante, Son of Sparda. And for some reason, whenever it came to the woman two years his junior, her fury only did well to attract him to her more than he already was instead of making him fear for his very existence like it rightfully should have. He guessed he was just weird like that.

Although, he would be lying if he said her stare wasn't the least bit unnerving. She looked about ready to pop a couple rounds into his skull, which would be more than justified since he literally left her to fend for herself. But, to be honest, he really did _not_ feel like getting shot in the head today.

Not that he was _ever_ in the mood for it or anything.

"_So_…" he started, stuffing his thumbs into the belt loops of his leather pants and rocking back and forth on his feet sheepishly. The silence was getting a bit too awkward for his tastes. "Uh-"

"Shut up." She snapped, and his mouth immediately snapped shut without his consent. She somehow had that effect on him.

He watched, as if in some kind of trance, as she turned to fully face him, one pale hand coming up to brush ebony bangs from her eyes so she could focus more on him-much to his delight/chagrin- and narrowed her jewel-like orbs even further to study him.

"Go make me a sandwich." She finally orders, and he blinks, startled, because he wasn't expecting that.

"_Wha_-?"

"Now!"

"Yes, ma'am." Dante mock saluted, stepping forward to do her bidding-

"Go take a shower first!"

-and then quite suddenly turns on his heel, stepping over his spoon-he knew it was his spoon!- and entering the bathroom. "Right."

Watching the door close with a muted click and hearing the shower turn on, Lady let out a sigh, walking herself over to the couch and plopping down tiredly. Letting her gun fall out of her grasp, she lifted her hand to rub at her temple as she thought back to the current events.

She had seriously just gone to war with an overgrown rat. The notion was so damned ridiculous that she almost didn't believe it had actually happened. She was sure that if it were anyone else that had experienced it, she would have probably laughed at the mental image just the first statement would have caused. But she wouldn't laugh now since there was absolutely nothing funny about it.

There was also nothing funny about the way Dante had left her to fend for herself. But she wouldn't think about that right at the moment, she'd deal with his bitch-ass later. Later, once she was good and fed.

Dropping her hands into her lap, Lady glanced out the window, taking in the darkening hues of the sky and second-guessing her decision on letting that diseased rat live.

It was probably unwise, yes, but she didn't feel the need to take its life. That rat had definitely had Rabies, and by the look of it, it was already in its third and final stage. It would die soon anyway. And just as long as the little shit kept out of trouble until then—

"_Oh my- Oh my god! Is that a __**rat**__?!"_

"_EWW! It's foaming out the mouth!"_

"_IT'S RABID! RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIIVVEEESSS!"_

"_AAHHHHHHHH!"_

Heaving a heavy sigh, the lady calmly pushed herself to her feet, grabbing her trusty 9mm from the coffee table and securely tucking it into its holster as she made her way to the front door.

Pausing as her hand came upon the door handle, she rethought the situation for a moment before decisively pivoting on her heel to head back upstairs.

She would definitely be needing Kalina Ann for this one.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, I know there are probably a ton of questions you would like answered. Like maybe what I was on when I typed this up or why in the hell I named the rat Chocolate. Well, that second one has quite the easy answer. I named the rat Chocolate _because I didn't get to_ _go freakin trick-or-treating_ this year-because of Sandy, that _biotch_- and I want everyone to think of a rabid rat every time you see or feel like eating some chocolate. Yes, I get it. I'm very spiteful. I know that and karma knows that…which is probably why I fell down the stairs a couple days ago. And to anyone who's laughing at that (bcz I know there're a couple of you) screw you guys, I could've seriously been injured. lol

Anyway, let me go now, I haven't slept in two days and I don't wanna die from a lack of sleep. I'll see everyone in a couple weeks!

*wink, wink*

Ow, my eye…


End file.
